Faberry's Twelfth Night
by hoglee
Summary: 'And you're going on a date with Rachel who's standing in for Puck' 'I'm well aware of my situation, Santana' The girl smirked. 'You'd better get your finger out, then. If this continues like 'Twelfth Night', she'll fall in love with Puck next'. Quinn gaped. 'Oh my...' *Kind of inspired by Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, but kinda nothing like it!*
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**Essentially very loosely inspired by Shakespeare's 'Twelfth Night' but he'd probably be horrified by what I've done with it!**

**Very short first chapter.**

_It's magic, you know. Never believe it's not so…_

As the girl watched the crystal ball, a smile spread slowly across her face.

Santana watched sceptically and Brittany rocked on her feet in excitement. 'So?'

Tina looked up. 'Twelfth Night'. For some reason that seemed to please her.

'What's special about that one?' Santana asked, feigning boredom, though Tina's sepulchral whispers and cloying incense together with the moon light seeping through the window were having more of an effect on her than she would care to admit.

Tina smiled 'Well, we'll have to change the ending but I think we can make it work'.

Brittany clapped. 'How do we start?'

Tina looked at Santana who reluctantly pulled a rose from her bag and handed it over. 'This is so dumb' she muttered, shaking her head at her won foolishness in agreeing to this. But when it came to Britt she couldn't say no and the girl knew it.

Tina smirked, amused at Santana's obvious embarrassment, and began to pluck the petals off and let them drop into the little tin pot on the camping stove in front of them.

They sizzled and bobbed just on the surface, tiny red boats gleaming with water.

Tina murmured something under her breath and dropped two names and a copy of 'Twelfth Night' into the pot.

There was a pop and a quick flash of flame, then…

Nothing.

'Did it work?'

Tina gave a devilish grin and suddenly her canines appeared to Santana rather longer than they should.

'Wait and See'.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Shipwreck/New Girl**

Blaine smiled at his sister encouragingly. 'C'mon Rach, you're going to love it. Their glee club is one of the best in the state – you said so yourself!'

Rachel nodded confidently. 'I know, and I intend to make it _the_ best, with immediate effect, by joining'. Blaine chuckled. 'It's just going to be weird starting school without you'.

'I know'.

The pair had moved to Ohio that summer when one of their dads, Leroy, had been made an executive of his company's Mid-west sector. It was somewhat different from Brooklyn, but Rachel knew it was only a couple of years until she left school and moved back to New York, so she wasn't too upset. In fact, she had rather enjoyed her first summer in the new state – despite the rather slower pace of life. She'd made a good friend in Noah Puckerman through the synagogue and at PFLAG met a really cute couple, Brittany and Santana; plus some woman called Judy Fabray who told her that she couldn't wait to introduce her to her daughter.

'Brittana' seemed very keen on said daughter, constantly telling Rachel how funny this 'Quinn' girl was, how loyal, how gorgeous (though quite why this was a necessary quality in a friend, Rachel wasn't sure). She was sure they would get on and between her and her other three friends, she thought her first day might not be so bad.

She looked out of the window a moment, watching the old students greet each other once more. She thought how strange it was that, even if you saw your friends every goddamn day of the summer, somehow when you saw them back at school for the first time it was like a reunion. Blaine nudged her and she nodded once more. With renewed determination, she swung her bag onto her shoulder and opened the car door.

'Good Luck', Blaine told her.

'You too, at Dalton'

'Relax Rach, everyone seemed really nice. No bullying this time'.

Rachel smiled and waved as he drove off, leaving her among the seething tide of students crashing together in the annual euphoria of unity before diverging into their cliques as they reached the school doors.

Despite her ego, she couldn't help but feel a little small and was tremendously relieved when she saw s friendly face bobbing above the surface. 'Hi Britt!' she greeted brightly as the blonde bounded over.

'Hi Rach!' she squealed in reply, throwing her arms around the much shorter girl. Santana smothered a smile as Rachel stumbled backwards, then gave the girl a curt nod.

'Hullo Santana' Rachel said equally cheerfully, used to the Latina's less than inviting manner.

'Who do you have Home Room with?' Brittany asked 'Are you with us?'

Rachel checked her timetable. 'Um… a Miss Brown?'

Brittany frowned, disappointed. 'No, we have Mr Elkin. Don't worry though – you're with Puck, he'll take care of you'.

Rachel ignored Santana's snort and mutterings about 'if you can stand the groping' and waved at the pair as they hurried through the doors to class, pinkies firmly linked.

'We'll see you at break', Brittany called.

Rachel nodded and turned to consult her plan of the building. When she finally managed to pick out her classroom, she headed through the doors and began traversing the long corridors, eyes glued to her map.

'Oof!' she exclaimed as she walked straight into what felt like a brick wall.

'Sorry!' she exclaimed hastily, looking up to see who she had hit. A good-looking Asian boy smiled down at her.

'That's alright – Rachel, right?'

'Well, yes, actually. How did you…?'

'I'm a friend of Puck's. From what he said I think you've rather brightened up synagogue for him'. Rachel shook her head in exasperation, but the boy noticed that she flushed a little too. 'I'm Mike, by the way'.

'Hi, Mike. You don't know where Miss Brown's class is, do you? I have her for Homeroom and I'm pretty sure that I'm already late'

'Yes I do, and yes we are a bit. I'll walk with you; I have her too'. Rachel smiled gratefully. 'So, what brings you to Mckinley, oh great Sage of the Big Apple?'

Rachel laughed. 'It's great how you guys here all think I must be really worldy and sophisticated just because I lived in New York, but we hardly lived in a rough area and my Dads are pretty protective at the best of times'. Mike laughed. 'We only moved her because my Daddy got a promotion. He works for Ford'.

The boy whistled. 'A high-flyer, huh? What are you doing in Mckinley?'

'I researched the best glee clubs in the area and you guys came up'. Mike grinned, flattered. 'Of course, I intend to make some drastic improvements, but you're a good starting point!'

Mike stared for a moment and then laughed. 'I see! C'mon then, Puck'll be pleased to see you, no doubt'

She followed him into the room, and, after the first excruciating introductions, Rachel settled in very quickly.

'So you really are an art-crazy, then?' Puck said, amused. 'I knew you'd mentioned that Broadway thing, and Santana said something about some drama college, but I didn't know you had such a thing for them'.

Rachel rolled her eyes. 'I am not a 'crazy,' as you put it, which by the way is a potentially loaded and offensive term to some members of society; I merely appreciate creative expression in all its form, but particularly music, because it transcends all barriers of language and even species.

Puck stared but Mike nodded thoughtfully. 'Ok, but how about dance? Expression though body language is our deepest subconscious connection. Animals do it all the time in how they approach each other in order to show status, sexual primacy, etc…'

'Woah!' Puck held up his hands in surrender. 'It's a Monday Morning. The first day back. Don't go blowing my brain cell already!'

Mike gave him a friendly cuff around the head and Rachel laughed, pleased to have found herself part of things so quickly.

'_Anyway_', Puck continued. 'You should come to Arts club with me. We all meet up and talk about how to tell people about feelings, memories, anything you want to say. It's all like totally no-pressure and chilled. And yeah, I did swallow the brochure for it'.

'_You _do an Arts Club?' Rachel asked sceptically.

Puck shrugged, a little embarrassed. You can say what you want, girl, but them chicks dig a sensitive guy and if a bit of strumming gets me laid, then I'm down with that! Plus there's this girl in glee club – I think if I can just serenade her with an original song, she might get on the Puckosaurus for another spell'.

Rachel snorted and dimly remembered Santana and Brittany talking about the sudden, and apparently completely random, re-emergence of Puck's crush on Quinn. She hadn't really paid much attention at the time, but, listening to Noah, she agreed that it was odd. Guys like him did not get lovesick.

'Another?'

Mike shook his head at Puck as the boy sheepishly explained that they had gone out, but he'd messed things up by cheating on her with Santana ('You big old beard, you', Rachel had teased) and now he wanted another chance.

'I understand that, Noah'. Puck smiled. 'Just one thing: How did you get her in the first place? She's supposed to be gorgeous'.

Puck scowled and thumped her shoulder. 'Babe, please. The Puckmeister got game!'

'And the idiolect of some dumb team movie' Rachel muttered, much to Mike's amusement.

Puck stuck his tongue out, not really understanding what she had said, but guessing that it wasn't complementary. Rachel returned the gesture.

'Oh mature, you two, mature', Mike said sarcastically. Said two giggled.

'So a song-writer?' Rachel clarified, still incredulous.

'We couldn't believe it either – I mean Puck does not do swoony' Mike snickered.

'I am NOT swoony!'

'Sure. Let's see what you've got then', Rachel prompted.

Puck pulled out a notebook and handed it over. 'I've written a poem about her eyes, but I want to set it to music'.

'Maybe I can help?' Rachel offered.

Puck brightened. 'Hey Rach, I have an idea – you could serenade her for me!'

Rachel raised an eyebrow. 'How will that make her like _you_?'

Puck shrugged. 'You have a better voice and you can tell her that it's on my behalf. Plus, it works for the guy in 'Twelfth Night'!'

Rachel and Mike stared at him. 'Okay, so I actually did my Course Reading in advance for once, no biggie', he defended himself.

Rachel was bemused. 'Well, I'm not convinced this is actually going to work, but I'll give it a go'.

'Thanks, Jewbro. Her birthday's tomorrow. You need the song by then'. Puck stood up to leave.

'Wait, What?!'

'You'll be fine, cheers!' Puck said airily, sauntering off.

Mike gave her a sympathetic smile. 'On the bright side, Rachel, you could hardly do a worse job than the one he's been doing', he followed Puck out.

Rachel gaped at the Herculean Labour she had been landed with.

She stood up and made her way to the library, reading Puck's poem as she went.

_Whenever I see skies of blue_

_It makes me think of you, Quinn._

_Whenever I see the sea_

_I wish that you were here with me, Quinn._

_It's your eyes – I see them everywhere -_

_Your eyes so pretty and blue._

_Whenever I look into them_

_I know that I love you._

Rachel groaned in disbelief. How on earth was she going to set _that_ to music?

She took up her pencil valiantly and started scribbling.

She may have to tweak the words a _little_ to make a song out of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two - Olivia's Court/English Class**

After a very productive if frustrating hour (writing a song about a girl you had never actually seen, let alone met, was surprisingly difficult), Rachel was rather proud of her finished song. It was still pretty terrible but it was certainly better than it had been, and the elusive Quinn would surely appreciate the thought, right?

She looked down at the page:

_Did I ever tell you about the time_

_I first looked in your eyes?_

_Did I ever tell you how brightly they shine?_

_Or at least, how they used to, when they looked into mine._

_Did I ever tell you I saw moonlight_

_glancing off the crystal pools?_

_I guess I didn't,_

_now I'm alone, I know I was a fool._

_I'm feeling blue_

_and I don't know what to do._

_I am so blue_

_now I don't sleep next to you;_

_haunted by blue - _

_the blue of summer skies,_

_of your eyes._

_Blue fills my mind._

She scoffed. Yeah, right. If someone tried to win _her_ by getting someone else to write and sing her a lame song, she'd tell them where to stick it. She sighed. She was stuck doing it now anyway. Besides, she couldn't make things any worse, could she?

RQRQRQ

The three cheerleaders were languorously stretched out on the terse grass of the football pitch, bathing in the orange of an Autumn sun. Around them were sparsely dotted similar groups, all deliciously lazy and warm and altogether feeling quite at one with the world.

Brittany giggled as Santana playfully nudged her bare legs, entwining them with her own and drawing the blonde into their own little bubble of sun.

'Get a room' Quinn admonished automatically, with no real intent or malice; indeed, as experience had taught her to do, with very little hope.

Once again, experience was proved right. 'Get laid and stop being a bitch', Santana carelessly tossed back, still smiling at Brittany who was now, in the absence of daisies in a closely mown lawn, making a grass-chain bracelet.

'Are you offering?'

Santana snorted. 'Never gonna happen, Blondie. I'm just saying: come out, grab a girl and pop that damn cherry!'

'Don't be so crass', reprimanded Quinn, quite unaffected. 'And shut up too, I'm not getting outed by _you'_

'Could be worse'. Quinn raised a questioning eyebrow. 'Could be done by Finn without prior consultation or permission', Santana growled.

Quinn bobbed her head in acknowledgement. 'True'.

'Seriously, Q, get over the daddy issues and just do it. He's a loser: he left. Now come out'.

'We could throw you a rainbow party?' Brittany offered helpfully.

Quinn laughed and Santana nodded enthusiastically at the image of her best friend forced into some rainbow-coloured costume in front of the whole school. 'Thanks Britts, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait 'til I'm ready. You get it, right?'

The other blonde gave a vehement nod. 'Yes. You need time just like Sanny did'.

Quinn gave the latina a smug grin. 'Exactly!'

Santana grumbled something about 'just don't wait too long or I'll pull a Finn out on you' which Quinn wisely chose to ignore, but allowed Brittany's hair-stroking to soothe her.

'You could come out to the club, though'.

Quinn sighed. 'I know, San. It's not even that I don't want them to know, it just seems a really random thing to bring up in practice: ''Oh by the way, I'm a lesbian. Cool? Cool, continue then''.

You know – it just seems ridiculous'. She smirked. 'Besides which I can't bear the week of supportive songs being pounced on me all over school'.

Santana sniggered. 'Hey, I had to sing freaking Perry; you should have to sing freaking Perry!'

'I suppose it would get Puck off my back...' Quinn mused.

Brittany pulled a face. 'He'd just switch to asking if he can watch, like he does with me and San'.

Quinn crinkled her nose in distaste. 'Gross'.

Santana nodded in agreement. 'You know, I've really no idea what that boy thinks he's doing. It's so obvious that when you impregnate a drunken girl and get her kicked out, not to mention proceed to cheat on her, that she's not ever going to want you again. It wouldn't work even if you still liked him – too many issues. It's the solution of an idiot match-maker: ''crap! Quinn's still single. Err, we'll stick her with him, he hasn't had a serious relationship for a while''. Even Puck should be able to see how hopeless it is. It's almost as if he can't help himself, like he's under some crazy love-spell or...' she trailed off and exchanged a shocked look with Brittany who shrugged as if to say 'I told you so'. Santana looked dumb-struck.

Quinn was more than a little puzzled but didn't bother asking, more than used to the pair's kooky in-jokes. 'I agree, but obviously Puck is either under a love-spell or an idiot, and all evidence suggests the latter.

Santana laughed 'True', but she caught Brittany's eye once more before turning sly. 'By the way, Q, have you met the one and only Rachel Berry yet?'

'Is this that girl you were banging on about all summer? No I haven't. Why?'

'Oh, no reason' Santana replied, all too innocently for Quinn's liking.

'San!' she growled.

The girl laughed. 'I just think you'll find her an experience'.

Narrowing her eyes dangerously, Quinn scrutinised her friend. 'What do you mean?'

'She talks a lot', Brittany put in diplomatically. 'And she's very honest. And super-cool'.

'In other words, Q, she's sexy and talented, she'll see right through you, and she won't take any of your crap'.

Quinn flicked her hair in annoyance and made a clearly dissenting, if inarticulate, noise.

'We'll see', Santana warned in gleeful anticipation.

Quinn humphed.

RQRQRQ

After lunch, Quinn had English with Miss Brown.

She loved the subject (journalism was her secret ambition), and in all honesty had developed a slight crush on the bright young teacher too.

They were starting a module on Shakespeare's comedies and everyone was asked to tell the class which their favourite was and why.

Miss Brown began to read out a list of the comedies and people put their hands up at their favourites and said a few words about why.

Midsummer Night's Dream was the favourite, along with Much Ado About Nothing, but at the mention of Twelfth Night, four hands went up: Quinn glanced around briefly to see she was joined in her choice by Santana, Tina and a rather short brunette sat right at the front of the class, whose face she could not see.

Miss Brown smiled. 'Interesting. So why do you girls like this one? Santana?' she prompted.

Santana smirked 'The only Shakespeare I know with some lady-loving!' Thee class laughed and Miss Brown smiled indulgently.

'Fair enough, but you'll be surprised at how much implied homosexual subtext there is in Shakespeare.

Santana wiggled her eyebrows and Puck wolf-whistled.

Miss Brown now turned to the mysterious brunette, expectantly. 'Rachel?'

Quinn stretched her neck when she heard the name, craning to see what the fuss about this Rachel was, but her back remained defiantly turned towards the blonde's best efforts.

'I like it because it's all about the power of pretence, and how it could potentially destroy everything you want, which I think is still pretty relevant'.

The class hummed in agreement and Miss Brown nodded. 'Very good. Quinn?'

At the name, Quinn saw the brunette tense and flick around to see the blonde. She looked away again too fast for Quinn to see what she looked like, leaving the girl to stare at her lustrous brown locks in vain.

'Well, I guess because it's so clever at turning social convention on it's head in order to ridicule it, but without rousing any authorities'.

'Do you want to develop that?'

Santana groaned but Quinn continued. 'Well, the Viola can assume the intellect, activity and art of a man merely by assuming male costume; showing the constraints placed upon women to be simply constructs and not 'biological necessities' as was said. Meanwhile, Orsino assumes a typically female role – languishing as he waits for Viola to bring him news of his love.

'Also, hetero-normative assumptions are deviated as Olivia falls in love with another woman, which is all seen as permissible because Viola acts like a man. In fact, it is clearly ridiculous to accept the relationship merely because Viola is dressed as man – challenging society's rejection of the validity of homosexual love'.

There was a silence.

'So, kind of like what I said' Santana said.

The class sniggered, and Quinn flushed a little.

'Excellent work, Quinn', Miss Brown told the now furiously blushing girl. 'You're really going to enjoy 'Twelfth Night' this term.' She turned to the final girl, still patiently holding her arm in the air, now with the second arm giving support. 'Tina, sorry'.

'Well, it starts well, but the end is all wrong'.

Miss Brown frowned, amused. 'What exactly do you mean?'

'The play should be about finding love in the most unexpected place: right under your nose with someone of the same sex when you're convinced that you're in love with someone else. But Shakespeare chickens out at the lesbians and shoves Viola & Orsino and Olivia & Cesario together. I mean, come on! Falling for the latent homosexual who's pining after a woman he barely knows in some misguided attempt at marriage? And accepting the twin of the person you were in love with without question? It's stupid!'

Everyone smiled at the girl's vehemence and angry mutterings about 'getting it right this time around' and Quinn patted the girl's shoulder. 'Damn right, Tina!'

Santana shot the Asian girl a strange look, but she appeared not to notice; instead beginning to pack up her books.

When the bell rang, Quinn leaped up, eager to see this Rachel's face; but the girl swept out of the room and turned the corner before the blonde could even untangle herself from her chair.

'Damn' she muttered.

'Looking for someone, Q?' Santana mocked.

Quinn shot her a look but she shrugged it off, laughing with an irritating air of superiority.

God, Quinn hated that girl sometimes.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just a heads up: in the style of Shakespeare, these two will end up together in a crazy short amount of time, because the bard always manages it within like two hours!**

**Chapter 3: The Wooing/Love-Song Gone Wrong**

Tuesday. Quinn's birthday.

Rachel groaned at the thought. She was more than a little nervous, despite herself and her fathers had commented on her less-than-gratingly-chipper morning greeting at breakfast. Things had only got worse when she had reached school and caught sight of the blonde. Although she still hadn't been able to see these blue eyes that inspired Noah to compose feeble odes to them, she hadn't been able to see that the girl was clearly very attractive and she was having doubts about her ability to get her to fall in love with an absent third party that was already objectionable to the cheerleader. Besides which she had had brutal experience of even the songs she thought masterpieces being received with rather less enthusiasm by her philistine peers, let alone songs such as the one it was now incumbent upon her to sing.

By the time she got to Homeroom, her palms were sweaty. She wrinkled her nose in distaste for her body's amateur reaction. It was further infuriating to discover Noah and Mike sat on a desk playing 'slapsies' with an unconcerned lightness of heart that was, at present, eluding her.

She stormed up to the pair and smacked her hands on top of theirs with a force that was more than a little gratuitous.

'Hey Jew-girl – 'sup?' Puck greeted in an irritatingly relaxed drawl, lolling back in his chair for further effect.

'What's up?' Rachel seethed. 'What is "up", Noah, is that I woke up this morning with the dreadful expectation of having to woo the most attractive girl in the school on your behalf – probably in front of the other members of the aptly named 'Unholy Trinity' and Cheer Team. Does that seem a reasonable thing for me to get all 'up' about, Noah, does it?' The girl poked him aggressively in the chest to emphasise her point.

Mike stifled a laugh as Noah recoiled from the fuming girl, almost whimpering.

'Nervous?' he smirked, before gulping as she rounded on him.

'Okay, Mike. You just go and serenade Quinn Fabray in front of the whole school and let's see how you feel about it!'

Mike's eyes widened and he backed off, holding his hands up in surrender.

Puck reached up timidly to pat the girl's elbow. 'You're an amazing singer, I'm sure she'll love it. I wouldn't have asked if you weren't'.

Rachel couldn't help but smile at the flattery, but she quickly regained her frown at Puck's relieved expression. 'Don't think you're getting away with this, Noah', she said, sternly. 'You owe me unconditional favours for this'.

The boy waggled his eyebrows and Rachel rolled her eyes. 'Believe me, Noah, that would not be a favour',

Affronted, he still reluctantly shook her outstretched hand as the bell announced the beginning of first lesson.

**QFRB**

Quinn opened her locker at break to a particularly hideous teddy-bear with positively demonic staring eyes. Her mouth opened in disbelief as she picked it up, holding it at arms-length.

'I Love You' it declared in a creepy parody of a child's voice.

Her jaw dropped further.

Immediately, Jacob Ben Israel was by her side, microphone thrust into her face. 'Care to comment on the giver of the birthday present, Quinn? Is this from a clandestine lover or merely a secret admirer? Do you have a message for them?'

Quinn gave a dangerously sugared smile, reminiscent of that of Lewis Carrol's little crocodile.

'As a matter of fact, I do, Jacob' she said, turning to beam into his camera. 'To Puckerman:' she announced, before calmly and deliberately ripping the head off of the bear, dropping the two pieces carelessly to the ground and marching off, hips swaying.

The camera zoomed in on the bear's body-less head, still gazing up with glassy mirth.

**QFRB**

About an hour later, Noah was showing Rachel the video – by now seen by most of the school. 'That's what we're up against', he laughed nervously, trying not to wince when Quinn ruthlessly decapitated the bear.

Rachel nodded, thoughtfully, not really listening. There was something odd about Quinn's appearance in the video. Something that should be different. If only she could work out what...

**QFRB**

Quinn smiled in satisfaction as she watched her Cheerios circuit-train under Santana's sadistic direction and her own watchful eye. Sue wasn't there, claiming boredom with their 'chronic mediocrity', so she was fully in charge and making the most of the opportunity to vent the day's frustrations.

First the bear (she shivered as she thought again of its fixed smile – creepy); then the chocolates, typically of Puck, orange chocolates, which she loathed; then, bizarrely, a singing duck (Puck had, in desperation, asked for Brittany's advice) waiting on her desk in calculus, much to her classmates' amusement. Finally, there had been that banner in the lunch hall, proudly declaring 'I love you, Baby' which looked suspiciously like it had been stolen from an actual baby shower. It was a credit to her (well-practiced) fierce glares that they had been able to quell the hilarity at that one. Honestly, it was like the boy was under the influence of some ridiculous Romilda-Vane-style love potion!

She released a slow, calming breath that twitched the tendrils of her hair that had fallen from her unusually lose ponytail. It was all over now. She just had to get through a dinner with her mom and the visiting Frannie.

Her phone buzzed and she picked it up, confused to see it was Santana calling from down on the field.

'Hello, chief', the girl said, clearly amused.

'San, what's up?'

'Someone to see you'.

Quinn looked down to see the figure of a small brunette waiting, somewhat impatiently, by her second-in-command.

'Is there now?' she replied, her voice slightly husky.

Santana rolled her eyes at Rachel who was listening on loud-speaker.

'Yeah there is, Dork. But don't get too excited: I should warn you that Puck sent her'.

Immediately, Quinn was furious. 'No. No way, San. No more. Tell her no'. She paused for a moment, fighting with herself. 'Wait'. She was intrigued by this Rachel girl after all.

Santana winked at Rachel. 'She's pretty damn fine, Q-sie. And it is your birthday'.

Rachel grinned, teasingly and Santana held up her middle finger.

'Shut up!' Quinn groaned, embarrassed, still unaware she was on speaker-phone. 'Look, tell her to come up, but not for Puck. She can come and speak to me for herself'.

'You really want me to sound that gay?'

'Santana, I swear I'll...'

'Okay, okay. Sending her up. Go get her, dwarf'. She hung up. Quinn fumed. She was going to kill Santana for this.

**QFRB**

Down at the bottom of the bleachers, Rachel paused. 'She's going to be mad when I sing her Puck's serenade, isn't she?'

Santana nodded, gleefully. 'Yup!'

Rachel muttered a ouple of curses about the absent boy before steeling herself. 'Well, here goes!'

Santana watched as she confidently ascended the stands towards the waiting Quinn.

This would be fun.

**QFRB**

Quinn watched as the slightly breathless brunette halted in front of her. She waited.

'Hi' the girl began, brightly. 'We haven't met officially, but I've heard all about you – in a good way', she added hastily. 'I'm Rachel'.

'I know'. Quinn couldn't decide whether the blinding smile was irritating or adorable. She thought probably the latter.

'Oh', Rachel said, a little thrown by this reception.

'I can tell it's Puckerman you've been talking to if you've only heard good things', Quinn smirked, a little bitterly. 'You might get a different version elsewhere'.

'No!' Rachel exclaimed, a little too loudly. 'Well, I mean, that is who's been telling me about you' (as well as Santana, Brittany and your mum nearly every time I saw them, she thought). 'But, I'm sure no one would disagree. 'You're the prettiest girl I've – well, Noah, has ever seen. And it sounds like you're smart and funny too'.

Quinn bit back an arrogant smile. 'I'm gonna be honest with you, Berry. I like Puck. He's an idiot, but he's a nice idiot'. Rachel smiled, agreeing. 'But, he is not boyfriend material and I will never be attracted to him sober!' (Or any other guy, for that matter, she thought) 'Frankly, I'm confused as to why he's so convinced it's me he wants, besides the obvious'. She winked. 'We had just been friends for several months very happily and all of a sudden he got this fixation, and now he's ruining even that!'

Rachel sighed. 'I know Noah's been a little crazy today' she began, ignoring Quinn's snort of 'a little!'. 'But he's just trying to show you how he feels – admittedly, not his strong point. He really does like you though, he talks about you all the time! He really regrets what happened and he just wants another chance'. Rachel did not notice Quinn's twitch at the rather – for Quinn – loaded word, 'regret'.

Quinn herself might have been rather more moved by this speech (though she doubted it), had she not been so distracted by the passionate movement of the girl's lips as she framed these words.

Quinn gave an unconscious lick of her own lips as she watched.

Rachel saw and cleared her throat, uncomfortable. 'Um, so, anyway; _Puck _wants me to woo you and _he _asked me to sing you to this 'cause I have a better voice. But it's on _his _behalf, okay?'

Quinn frowned a bit at the girl's less-than-subtle emphases, but acquiesced. She'd be interested to hear the girl's voice anyway.

Rachel started singing and Quinn, entranced, watched.

'___Did I ever tell you about the time_

___I first looked in your eyes?_

___Did I ever tell you how brightly they shine?_

___Or at least, how they used to, when they looked into mine._

___Did I ever tell you I saw moonlight_

___glancing off the crystal pools?_

___I guess I didn't,_

___now I'm alone, I know I was a fool._

___I'm feeling blue_

___and I don't know what to do._

___I am so blue_

___now I don't sleep next to you;_

___haunted by blue -_

___the blue of summer skies,_

___of your...'_

Rachel cut herself off, suddenly realising what had been off about Quinn's appearance.

'Your eyes aren't blue', she stated.

Quinn shook her head, amused.

'They're green?' she leaned in a little and Quinn stood, bringing their faces closer. 'Hazel?' she asked, quieter. Subconsciously, she leaned in still further. Quinn's eyes swirled gold as her pupils expanded. 'Gold', Rachel breathed in awe.

Quinn gave a low chuckle. 'I have weird eyes!'

'No! They're beautiful. Magical eyes'. Rachel didn't seem to realise she was speaking in hushed tones, as if in church.

Quinn blushed and her eyes seemed to swirl an even lighter gold as she smiled adoringly.

Uh-oh, Rachel thought, coming abruptly to her senses.

Quinn, however, kept their gazes locked as she lifted a hand to the crease of the brunette's neck. 'Rachel' she murmured.

The shorter girl stepped quickly back and turned away. 'Um, I'd better go and tell Puck he's an idiot!' she laughed, uncomfortably.

Quinn gave a low, sultry laugh. 'You can talk to me for your own sake too, you know. Not just to further Puck's cause'.

Rachel felt her step closer so she could almost feel her on her back. 'I'd like that', the blonde husked.

Rachel turned quickly to face the other girl again and thrust a box into her hands, distancing herself about an arm's length. 'That's Puck's final gift, by the way'.

Quinn carefully untied the bow. 'Don't I get what from you', she teased.

Rachel bit back a smile. This was from her, just on Puck's behalf seeing as he was so hopeless with presents.

Quinn gasped as she opened the box and found a beautiful black fountain pen, resplendent with gold nibs and clip. 'It's so beautiful'.

'Because you like writing', Rachel explained, curiously nervous.

Quinn nodded and reverently balanced the pen in her hands. It had cost Rachel several weeks allowanc, but she had thought it worth it. She'd heard a lot about Quinn over the summer, and, though she hadn't been told any details, she understood enough to know that Quinn had a pretty tough time of it and surely deserved at least one good present from Puck.

The blonde bit her lip for a moment, suddenly shy, before swiftly placing a soft kiss on Rachel's cheek. 'Thank you'.

Rachel blushed, proud and a little disconcerted. 'You should thank Noah', she corrected the girl.

Quinn looked straight at her, eyes brilliant gold once more. 'This isn't from Puck' she said simply. 'And I'm thanking you'.

Rachel would have protested but a little, selfish part of her was glad that Quinn knew the gift was from her. She nodded. 'So if you liked it, can I take you out on Friday?' She saw the blonde's face light up and hastily amended 'To plead Puck's cause, I mean'.

Quinn's face fell but she looked amused in spite of herself. _'You_ can take me out' she replied, walking off before Rachel could say anything to ruin it.

'I'll be ready at 7:30' she called back.

Rachel grinned but face-palmed.

How was she going to tell Noah that Quinn was almost certainly gay and appeared more interested in Rachel than him? Perhaps it really was a stupid idea; after all, her own charms would only continue to make Noah look less favourable by comparison. But now she'd set things up with Quinn. And she really did want to be friends with he.

She groaned. What a mess.

**A/N Next chapter: Dinner at the Fabrays! Please review?**


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